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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28461954">Just Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heathus/pseuds/Heathus'>Heathus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Rated T for language, the tiniest amount of angst possible for Baz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:00:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28461954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heathus/pseuds/Heathus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon Snow was so powerful that I thought he was going to destroy me. But now I wake up next to him everyday and nothing feels like it's too much anymore. I could live this way forever. For more than forever. I want Simon Snow to be mine forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Secret Snowflake 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just Right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoolofaBookWyrm/gifts">Fool of a Book Wyrm (FoolofaBookWyrm)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy New Year, Liz!<br/>This fic refused to be as long as I wanted it to be, but at least I'm actually finishing something for once.<br/>I was reading your prompts while listening to music and was inspired by 'Just Right' by Tessa Violet (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zaKIeL2SEA) to write this little slice of life/proposal fic. I normally tend to write the angiest things imaginable so it was both fun and interesting to give something more lighthearted a go.<br/>I really hope you like it :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
    <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>
    Simon Snow, you were always <em>too much</em>.
</p>
<p>
    You were fire and pain and destruction.
</p>
<p>
    You were the most impressive thing that I had ever seen.
</p>
<p>
    And I had been sure that you would destroy me.
</p>
<p>
    I saw what losing your powers did to you. I was there for all of it.
</p>
<p>
    But what you don’t understand, Simon, is that you would have destroyed me
    like that. You would’ve kept burning me up until you burnt me out.
</p>
<p>
    Like this, Simon, we have a future.
</p>
<p>
    I can survive you.
</p>
<p>
    You can survive the life you have now.
</p>
<p>
    You can survive.
</p>
<p>
    I loved you before, Simon. I have loved you for as long as I have loved.
</p>
<p>
    I will love you. I will love you no matter what.
</p>
<p>
    But you were too much.
</p>
<p>
    There wasn’t a day that went by in which I thought that we could both come
    out of this alive.
</p>
<p>
    We both have a future now.
</p>
<p>
    We have a future together.
</p>
<p>
    And for me, Simon Snow, you are just right.
</p>
<p>
    ***
</p>
<p>
    I should be surprised by how much waking up next to Simon Snow can still
    thrill me. After years sharing a room in Mummers house, I should be used to
    it. I am used to it. But seeing the sun rise every day does nothing to
    diminish its beauty. And Simon has a beauty that will never be diminished,
    a shine that will never dull. It is his light that I wake up to every
    morning. He outshines the sun. But he is not the sun. Instead, he is close
    enough, gentle enough, for me to touch.
</p>
<p>
    There was always a distance before. I would stare across the abyss that
    stretched out between our beds and wish that I could reach over and hold
    him. He was always too far away, and the more time passed, the more that
    that abyss stretched out into a cavernous void. And yet I would always hold
    on to the distant glimmer that there could be some hope. I would spend my
    nights wishing that he could be mine.
</p>
<p>
    By some miracle, I got my wish. Simon Snow is mine to hold and to cherish
    and to love. And I am his. I have always been his. I will always be his. I
    would’ve been his whether this was how we ended up or not. I would’ve been
    his even if he could never have been mine. But he is mine. And I get to
    wake up next to him. I get to look at his hair, his moles, his lips, his
    everything.
</p>
<p>
    And it is so easy to slip back to sleep when I have my head resting against
    his shoulder. When I can hear his heart beating. When I can breathe him in
    with every breath. When I know that he is here. With me. Safe. Home.
</p>
<p>
    When I next wake up, I cannot feel another body next to mine. Before I have
    opened my eyes – before I have even registered that I am awake – I reach my
    arm to find him. There is no one in the bed with me. My heart spikes with
    worry for a moment before the clattering from the kitchen lets me know
    exactly where he is.
</p>
<p>
    I’m not sure if Simon ever looks better than he does when he’s pottering
    around the kitchen in his pyjamas, half asleep. There’s a mug sat on the
    counter and another halfway up to his mouth, pausing as he notices me
    coming into the room. Sleepily coasting over to me, Simon reaches a hand
    out to rest against my hip as he draws me in for a kiss that tastes like
    peppermint tea.
</p>
<p>
    “Morning, Love.”
</p>
<p>
    “Mmhmm.”
</p>
<p>
    There’s gentle music coming from a speaker in the corner of the room. I
    lead Simon by the waist over to it. Pulling the mug out of his grasp to
    sit it on the corner, I reach over and turn up the music, letting it fill
    the room.
</p>
<p>
    Simon lets me manoeuvre him into the middle of the room and compliantly
    places his hands on my hips when I wrap mine around his shoulders. We sway
    back and forth with his head resting against my shoulder until the song
    turns into something more upbeat and we’re swinging each other around the
    kitchen and singing along until our tea gets cold. It’s a beautiful
    morning.
</p>
<p>
    ***
</p>
<p>
    Casual days with Simon Snow are some of the best days of my life. Every
    single one of them.
</p>
<p>
    We’re sat together on the sofa with my feet tucked under Simon’s legs and
    my back against the armrest. My book is sat open on my lap. I’m reading The
    Song of Achilles. (It’s about an old myth, it’s gay and it’s tragic.
    There’s nothing better.) I’m not really reading though; I’m just staring at
    Simon instead. He’s playing on the PlayStation (to me it seems like most of the time he's yelling at the Playstation rather than actually playing anything). I don’t know what game he’s
    playing. I don’t know half of the games he plays. It’s one of the ones where
    he runs around and kills zombies and he’s terrible at it. I’m watching his
    character die over and over again as he insists that it’s the game controls
    that are throwing him off and that if he was really surrounded by zombies
    and he had access to a sword, he’d do much better. I believe him. He’s
    lethal with a sword.
</p>
<p>
    We waste the whole day away like that: curled up in each other as we relax
    on our own. Before I know it, night has reached us.
</p>
<p>
    <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>
    Baz nudges me with his foot. It screws up the game I’m playing, and I watch
    as the death screen flashes up. I totally would’ve won if he hadn’t.
    Totally.
</p>
<p>
    “Get up, Snow. Grab your coat.”
</p>
<p>
    What the hell? I look out the window just to double check, but yeah, it’s
    definitely dark outside. He’s already taking his coat off the hook and
    looking at me expectantly from the door so I rush to switch off the PS4 and
    get out the house.
</p>
<p>
    It turns out that Baz just wants to drive around. He’s borrowing Shep’s
    truck. We’re rushing out of London and closer and closer to the countryside
    as we go. I’m snacking on a big share bag of Haribo’s as Baz tells me about
    Mordelia’s latest adventures. I love long drives. Seeing the world rush by
    your window. They’re even better at night. Seeing the lights of town and
    cities as you get further and further away from the hustle and bustle of
    London and out into wide open spaces.
</p>
<p>
    <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>
    I pull up at the edge of a field and turn off the engine. We’re next to a
    wide-open space. On the horizon, there’s a row of trees silhouetted against
    a sky that is barely any lighter than black. The lights of the nearest town
    shimmer across the distance, miles away from where we are now.
</p>
<p>
    Simon hasn’t caught on yet. He’s just staring out at the field, his nose
    scrunched up in confusion.
</p>
<p>
    “Snow.” He looks at me then. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. In the dark.
    With no one around.”
</p>
<p>
    I think he gets it, but he still looks kind of confused. Simon Snow can be
    incredibly dense sometimes. So I flick the bell that I brought with me and
    his wings explode out from his back. His head spins round to peer over his
    shoulder as if he couldn’t feel exactly what was going on. When his head
    jerks back round to look at me, he’s got a grin from ear to ear.
</p>
<p>
    “Really?”
</p>
<p>
    “Go for it, Snow.”
</p>
<p>
    He doesn’t wait another moment before careening away into the sky.
</p>
<p>
    Simon Snow looks fucking majestic as he swoops through the sky. I can hear
    him whooping as he dips down only to soar up higher and higher. He’s
    swinging in loops and flying by so fast, so close to me, that my hair flies
    out around me.
</p>
<p>
    He flies right at me at one point. He’s grinning from ear to ear and
    reaches around me waist to pull me into him.
</p>
<p>
    “Wanna try?”
</p>
<p>
    “What?” It comes out as a rather pitiful squeak.
</p>
<p>
    “C’mon.” He’s already pulling me into him and lifting us both up into the
    air. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time and I’m clutching to
    Snow like my life depends on it. It does. Though I do trust him not to drop
    me, I’m not quite willing to take that chance.
</p>
<p>
    We’re what feels like miles up in the air when Simon pulls away from me
    just enough for our lips to meet. I make sure it’s a short kiss when I
    prioritise my safety and cling tightly to him again. He seems to get the
    hint and brings me gently back to the ground. As soon as I’m stood and
    steady, he takes off again.
</p>
<p>
    It’s rather cold outside (that’s on me, I brought him out here in the
    middle of winter) and by the time Simon finally wears himself out, I’ve pulled
    my jacket in tightly around me and am about 2 seconds from retreating back
    into the warmth of the truck. Simon kisses me as he lands. He’s grinning
    and out of breath so it’s not the best kiss, but at the same time it is,
    because every kiss with Simon is the best. Especially when he’s this happy.
    Especially when I know there’ll be many more just like this to come.
</p>
<p>
    “Thank you.”
</p>
<p>
    “You’re welcome.”
</p>
<p>
    “Are we going back now?”
</p>
<p>
    “Do you want to?”
</p>
<p>
    “No. It’s a great night.”
</p>
<p>
    “Then it’s a good thing I’ve got this with me.” I reach into the truck and
    grab the flask of hot chocolate I made for the occasion.
</p>
<p>
    We set up a cosy area in the bed of the truck with the blankets that have a
    permanent residence in this truck for times like these. Simon wraps a wing
    around my back as I shared out the hot chocolate and we settle into each
    other’s warmth. (His more than mine. He’s so fucking warm.)
</p>
<p>
    We sit like that for what feels like hours. I’m practically frozen solid,
    but when I have Simon there with me, I can’t find it in me to care. Our
    hands are intertwined. We’re both squeezing each other’s every now and
    then. Simon’s head is resting against my shoulder. I keep staring up at the
    stars. They remind me of that night back in Watford. That’s the night that
    everything first felt like it was going <em>right</em> for once. Me and
    Simon, we were both full of magic, surrounded by stars. I’m looking up at
    the stars right now and thinking about how much I love him. I wonder what
    he’s thinking. If he’s thinking the same.
</p>
<p>
    He shifts his head so that his chin is resting against my shoulder. He’s
    looking up at me so I shift my body round so I can look right back at him.
</p>
<p>
    “Marry me.”
</p>
<p>
    Holy Fuck.
</p>
<p>
    <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>
    What the fuck? I did not mean to say that. Well, I did. Just. I didn’t
    really think I would <em>actually</em> say it.
</p>
<p>
    Everything is just so perfect. I’m still running on the adrenaline of
    flying. The adrenaline of flying with Baz. Just sitting with Baz. Baz in
    general. The fact that he is mine and I am his and we’re sitting here
    beneath the stars and everything is just so perfect. I looked up at him
    looking up at the stars and I just knew.
</p>
<p>
    I want this forever. I want Baz forever. I want everyone to know just how
    in love we are. I want Baz to know just how in love with him I am. I want
    Baz. I want Baz to be my husband.
</p>
<p>
    He’s not answering. He’s just staring at me. His mouth is hanging open.
</p>
<p>
    Have I messed everything up? Why isn’t he answering? Is it the wrong time?
    Is he not ready yet? Is he annoyed that I asked him like this? I didn’t
    have anything planned. I don’t even have a ring for him. Have I fucked
    everything up? Have I ruined everything?
</p>
<p>
    “What?” It’s a whisper. I don’t think I would’ve heard him if I wasn’t
    listening so intently for an answer.
</p>
<p>
    “Marry me?”
</p>
<p>
    “...”
</p>
<p>
    “I love you, Baz. I love you so much. Please will you marry me?”
</p>
<p>
    “Really?” He looks so vulnerable, like he thinks I’m pulling some elaborate
    prank.
</p>
<p>
    “Really. Marry me.”
</p>
<p>
    “Okay.”
</p>
<p>
    “Okay?”
</p>
<p>
    “Yes. Crowley, Simon, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
</p>
<p>
    “Are you crying?”
</p>
<p>
    He doesn’t answer, but I can see how wet his eyes are. He puts his hand
    against my cheek instead and we meet in the middle. Baz kisses me so
    softly. Then he kisses me again.
</p>
<p>
    And again.
</p>
<p>
    And again.
</p>
<p>
    I stop him too soon. A year would be too soon.
</p>
<p>
    “I haven’t even… umm… I haven’t got you a ring.”
</p>
<p>
    “You impulsive idiot.” He kisses me again. He can’t stop kissing me. But I
    can’t stop kissing him either, so it all works out. I do stop kissing him
    though. I’ve got an idea. A stupid idea, but then, most of my ideas are.
</p>
<p>
    “Wait here.”
</p>
<p>
    <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>
    Simon slides out of my grip and runs around to the front of the truck. I’m
    still shocked. I don’t think it has properly sunk in yet that Simon just…
    proposed… to me? My brain hasn’t been able to catch up yet. The only thing
    I can think is just how much love I have for Simon.
</p>
<p>
    Snow comes back round the truck with his bag of Haribo’s and I can see
    exactly where this is going.
</p>
<p>
    “So I didn’t really plan this.” Well, no shit. “But I’ve got a ring.”
</p>
<p>
    He holds up a Haribo ring proudly.
</p>
<p>
    I can’t help rolling my eyes. This is so stupid. It’s sweet though
    (literally), and I let him slide it onto my finger.
</p>
<p>
    He keeps looking up at me proudly and I can’t stop myself from kissing him again.
    (I don’t want to.)
</p>
<p>
    <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>
    “You would’ve done it better.” I say as I scroll through my phone to turn
    on our trashy playlist that we created together. The mishmash of our music
    tastes is chaotic at best, but I’m really getting to like some of the stuff
    Baz likes and I’ve heard him humming along to some of the cheesy 80s songs
    I’ve added.
</p>
<p>
    “I don’t care, Snow. You’re fucking perfect.”
</p>
<p>
    He kisses me again.
</p>
<p>
    “Anyway,” He continues, “We’ll just have to do it again.”
</p>
<p>
    “That right?”
</p>
<p>
    “Yup.” He really won’t stop kissing me. “I’m going to take you out to the
    fanciest restaurant in London and you’re going to order as much food as you
    want because Daphne will insist that she pays for an event as special as
    this. In fact, we’ll go to the best restaurant in Paris. Then I’m going to
    take you to a beautiful view of the Eiffel tower where I’ll propose in
    front of all the people who go there to see the lights and they will all
    feel horribly jealous, but they’ll have to clap and pretend that they don’t
    hate us for being tooth-rottingly in love.”
</p>
<p>
    “A devious plot.”
</p>
<p>
    “Only the best for you.”
</p>
<p>
    He pauses to kiss me… again.
</p>
<p>
    “And this,” Baz pulls on one of my hands that is clutching my phone and
    pries it away so that he can hold it between us. He leans down to kiss my
    ring finger, “This needs a ring on it. My mother’s to be specific.”
</p>
<p>
    His hand is slightly sticky from the Haribo ring that I assumed he’d take
    off immediately (well, I assumed he’d refuse to put it on in the first
    place), but it’s still on his hand as we drive home. I doubt it will last
    long.
</p>
<p>
    (It doesn’t last long. I pull it off with my mouth that night in
    bed.)
</p>
<p>
    <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>
    Waking up next to Simon Snow will always thrill me. I will never get bored
    of seeing him each and every day.
</p>
<p>
    We walk into the kitchen together to boil the kettle and while Simon looks
    absolutely fantastic pottering around the kitchen in his worn pyjamas, I
    think I can think of one time where he will look even better.
</p>
<p>
    I can just imagine him in a gorgeous suit stood at the end of an aisle.
</p>
<p>
    And I see him now. Snacking on biscuits in our kitchen. And he is perfect.
    He’s perfect for me.
</p>
<p>
    He’s just right.
</p>
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